SM Gays 18/01/07: A day that will live in infamy

Well, it probably won’t. It wasn’t Pearl Harbour, a Global War was not unleashed and, in the grand scheme of things, it barely signifies in my own life never mind anyone else’s. Nontheless I actually achieved a rare state of mind twice last night: I got angry.

Master Angry #1

I had not got there in a particularly good mood as, like everyone else, the bad weather had mad transport difficult. But I ran into a few old friends, like Dennis, and things looked like they were going to settle down and I awaited the arrival of my trainee. In front of where I was sitting was going to be a bondage demonstration but they seemed short of volunteers. Paul dropped heavy hints that he would enjoy it so I relented. I put him in the care of the SM Gays staff: bondage is not something I would normally lend a boi for unless I was very confident of my ground and the circumstances. But, I reasoned, these guys were supposed to be instructing others so if he wasn’t safe here he would not be safe anywhere.
He was on the X-tree for 10 minutes or so when I noticed some movement and Peter, who was next to me, said ‘he’s in trouble’. I looked and it appeared he was fitting, so I leapt over there like black lightning and helped prop him while the supposed professionals freed him from his bonds. Now with rope bondage if something goes wrong you cut the ropes, and you make sure you are equipped to do so. These guys seemed to panic and had nothing to cut the ropes with: instead the guy in charge of the demonstration assured me several times that he was ok and that ‘he was a nurse’. What I would have preferred at that stage was a guy with a sharp knife as Peter tried to undo his leg knots and I propped him up whilst Paul managed to projectile vomit over both of us (no-one should ever claim he has a weak stomach).
I cannot fault the Hoist for the aftercare, and Paul is very experienced: in that heat it could have happened to anyone. What made me annoyed were the amateurish bunglings and apparent panic when something went wrong. ‘We usually cut the ropes’ said the demonstrator to Dennis when I was out with Paul getting some air. ‘Why didn’t you then?’ was Dennis’ reply. The guy just walked off. Now, I was responsible for Paul and his safety: Masters have a duty of care. I had trusted the SM Gays team and assumed they knew what to do if there was a problem. The trust was misplaced and the assumption was wrong. Paul is, of course, fine. I am the one still beating myself up about it as I take responsibility for slaves very seriously (as those who have read these pages so far will know). I have left it to Peter to pass on my displeasure to SM Gays’ secretary. We will see what happens.

Master Angry #2

Now, in all this farce the trainee had still not pitched up. I had earlier put the chances of him turning up at 50% so I was not surprised and, given what happened later I am so glad he did not see any of it. He did, finally, pitch up at 11.00. Now he was very, very, nervous and I had decided on what for him would be shock tactics in that environment and get him to take his upper half off. This was a major struggle against his shyness, lack of self-confidence and previous experience. It took all of my concentration, effort and personality to get him that far. He actually had just started to unwind when I became aware of the crowd around us. I had been wholly focussed on him, but Peter and Paul had been holding the ring and batting away unwelcome hands. Partially I guess it was the incredible amount of fuss over something outwardly very small that he was making, partially it must have been the titillation of the scene (blindfolded, handcuffed, semi-naked boi, clearly scared…how often does that occur in fantasies?). Then one hand got through.
He had just been beginning to calm down, I had taken off the blindfold, then this happened. Again, unforgivable and whoever did it really should have known better. Given what had happened earlier in the evening I was already on a short fuse and now I could see the effort that myself, Peter, Paul and this lad were putting in being undone. I span at him (he was already walking away) and told him to lay off. He shouted some obscenity back at me. OK. I got the boi up and passed him on to Peter and Paul to talk to and calm him down in a secluded spot and I went on the prowl looking for this malefactor. Now, luckily for both of us I did not find him, he had probably run away by then and left. There would certainly have been raised voices, or rather from me the quiet, calm tones that I tend to adopt when really pissed off.
Now I probably over-reacted, and the earlier incident undoubtedly contributed to this. But I was always of the opinion that you never, ever, interfere with another Master’s slaves without permission, certainly not in a session of any kind and definitely not with a boi that was clearly nervous and finding his feet. I was not a happy man.

Epilogue

That said, I actually enjoy being angry more than I do being bored: I am angry so infrequently that being pissed of twice in the space of 2 hours is almost unheard of. But I take responsibility and the rules I live by seriously and intend to keep at them. I the meantime, well, last night was not what I anticipated, but at least it was not without incident.

M